


Undercover

by herasux



Category: One Piece
Genre: Drake strips but not really, M/M, Smoker DEFINITELY likes leather, TFW you finally realize your old friend is HOT, Undercover As Prostitute, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-08 14:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herasux/pseuds/herasux
Summary: Smoker’s job as a policeman is simple: speak with the higher ranking individual known as “D” that is set up to meet him for “services” in an attempt to gain further information on the criminal running services ring. However, “D” turns out to be someone from his past—someone whom he thought was dead.





	Undercover

Disguised as a distinguished gentleman—his natural hair coloring and some makeup certainly helped—Smoker had positioned himself on the windowsill in a nice robe and slippers with a glass of brandy in his hands; a single cigar—lit and smoking—sat perched between his lips and honestly, he welcomed that as he tore his gaze away from the door. Passing as an older gay man who resorted to looking for a good time through an escort service was doing things to his nerves. Sitting before him, leaning up against the window, was a small tablet connected to a camera which was monitoring the front door which wasn’t locked. It was something that had been deliberately done to make Smoker seem “naive” to such services. 

His gaze and body turned to the view of the city below from the five star hotel from the surrounding area which was quite nice—too fancy for Smoker’s own tastes, honestly, but there was a full stocked bar so he couldn’t be too uncomfortable with the setup. An impressive amount of money had been spent for the mission, and all he had to do was _act the part_—make this guy look convincingly disheveled from his night out (and pay him) _before_ or _after_ they talked—and that would be that.

Any moment now, there would be two knocks and then an entry into the hotel room—

_Knock knock._

The sound of two firm knocks caught Smoker’s attention, and he played it cool. Staying positioned, he took a drag from his cigar before putting it out and swallowed down a bit of the brandy before setting it down upon the windowsill.

The hotel door open quietly, knob turning with some brief, moderate noise to further alert Smoker that he was no longer alone before he remembered to turn the tablet’s screen off.

Upon shutting the door, a figure stepped into the room where Smoker was and paused.

Noting the stranger from the window’s reflection, but unable to truly make it out, the undercover cop and spoke gruffly. _Time to play._

”Undress,” he commanded, not yet wanting to look over at the individual encase it was another young kid. The one who had approached them in the first place had been no older than 18—apparently most of the workers were _young_, but there were a few older men, but the kid couldn’t name names.

There was some shuffling of clothing—of belts and zippers—before Smoker noted something flying towards him. He jerked, turning, just in time to be hit with a large, beige overcoat. Ripping it off of his head, he stood with a snarl because he was **not** going to be messed with by some _brat_, but the man standing a few feet away was no brat.

Standing before him in nothing more than the most tightest leather pants he had ever seen with an arched brow in his direction was none other than his former partner on the force: Drake Diez!!!

”You got a listening ear?” Smoker croaked roughly, eyes dark and running along Drake’s muscles upper body in an appreciative manner. The taller man’s bright orange hair and gray eyes were _unmistakable_. No one else had that particular combination on the force, but Drake had been written off as **dead**. Thinking quickly, he muted the mic on the hidden device; there was no need to have Tashigi and Coby listening in.

”No,” Drake replied, stretching out in a way that caused Smoker to run a hand through his hair.

Never had he ever seen the ginger so _open_ and _exposed_ before. He’d heard talk of Drake liking leather, but for Smoker, that had been _Drake’s_ business—_not his_. However, staring at Drake **now**, he certainly wanted those leather pants to be the only business he tended to tonight.

“They trust me.”

There was a moment where Drake stared silently at the older man before recognition hit him, and his cheeks flushed profusely. The older man’s voice was **unmistakable** and even the aging _makeup_ couldn’t hide Smoker’s sharp, attractive features.

”Smoker,” the ginger said hesitantly, almost hoping that he was wrong about it.

”_Yeah_,” Smoker confirmed, and after only a few moments, Drake mumbled something and turned, moving to grab the clothes he had removed. The older man blinked, but then piped up, moving towards the ginger. “Hey—what are you doing?!”

”_This must be a joke!_”

Gathering his things, Drake began to walk back towards the door and Smoker followed after him; unable to resist, his gaze briefly glanced down at the _fantastic_ rear end that was on display. Apparently leather did indeed fit Drake’s body well.

”You ain’t leaving yet!”

Smoker barked this out, a bit annoyed by Drake’s response and reached out as the ginger was within arm’s length of the door. Smoker turned the ginger back towards him rather roughly upon grasping hold of his closest arm before shoving Drake up against the door. Crowding him there, both arms settled up against the flat surface of the door to keep his old friend where he was, and brown eyes—damn near black with lust at this point—bore holes into Drake.

The clothing Drake was holding was pressing into him a bit, but Smoker didn’t care—Drake was alive, and he smelled _amazing_.

”Professional make up?” The ginger questioned, squinting at him a bit, but his cheeks were still flushed red.

”You disappeared for what? _Deeper_ cover?”

Drake huffed, blue eyes narrowing at Smoker. He had asked a question _first_, and the fact that his question had been countered with **another** question was a bit annoying. Wait—

... Was Smoker inching his way closer??

Drake blinked, noticing that the white haired male was indeed leaning up towards him. The height difference wasn’t outrageous, but it was certainly _noticeable_ which was why Drake had noticed the movement in the first place. Idly, he wondered if Smoker would actually go through with it kissing him or not. They were in a strange position here—literally _and_ figuratively—and no, it technically wasn’t right to play like they were doing now. There was a mission to think about!

”This isn’t the right time or place for this, Smoker—!”

Swallowing lightly, Drake turned his head away as his flush returned and some very particular memories from their days at the Academy began to resurface. There hadn’t been any type of relationship that had come due to their great friendship, but they were certainly _aware_ of each other and had had some interesting moments when alone. Heck, one of those times even mirrored this one to a degree, but then Hina had entered the room. At that point, they’d done everything to get away from each other as fast as possible.

Though Drake had turned his head away after protesting, he had revealed even more of the naturally tanned skin of his neck which was too close to not take a shot at since the ginger didn’t seem to want to do anything at the moment.

While it was a bit disappointing, it certainly wasn’t something that was going to stop Smoker who suddenly bit down lightly at Drake’s neck; he noted a shiver from the ginger before deciding to try his luck at leaving a hickey in that exact spot. If Drake truly was in on the investigation—and Smoker didn’t know how deep it went just yet—any and all evidence of copulation would help him keep his cover. 

It was when Smoker had started on his second hickey on the other side of Drake’s neck that the ginger dragged him a bit to meet his lips. 

If Smoker had been a poet, he could have noted that the moment their lips met, they kissed as though they had done it thousands of times before. Slow and lazy at first, but the passionate was building up between them like a fire that had been smoldering for some time.

Drake wasn’t sure who started touching who first at that moment, but once touching did start, it was like a drug almost—the need to touch everywhere, everything on the other person’s body—and Smoker certainly wasn’t shy about getting so handsy.

Smoker, himself, was feeling similar things and groaned against Drake’s mouth as he helped himself to everything that the ginger had to offer. Later on, he found himself thanking whatever god that had had a hand in allowing him to finally be with Drake this way after so much had happened, and now that he had the ginger, he would face hell AND high water before he let the man slip away from him again.


End file.
